


Wonder

by factorielle



Series: Brand New Endings [4]
Category: Ookiku Furikabutte
Genre: Bad Sex, DVD Commentary, First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-26
Updated: 2010-09-14
Packaged: 2017-10-09 04:07:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/82906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/factorielle/pseuds/factorielle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nobody is born a sex god.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to Yukitsu for her hard work on the proofreading.

Izumi Kousuke had never been jealous of girls.

Growing up, he'd felt the occasional twinge of envy: his brother had been scolded into a personal policy of never picking on girls, and Kousuke had sometimes felt that wearing a dress on occasion would be a small price to pay to be left alone.

After discovering that he preferred to look at his teammates in the locker room than at the short hem of his classmates' uniform skirts, there had been a few weeks of unease; but, he'd decided, there was no way he was swapping his body for a girl's even if it made things easier in that regard.

Now, going on eighteen and content, if not happy, with every aspect of his life, he was catching up on a lifetime of longing.

The thing was, girls had _magazines_. He'd always seen them around, in the streets, the train, the convenience store. But he'd never really paid attention until last week, when, back from training camp, all the front page articles had jumped out at him.

_ARE YOU READY?_

YOU'VE DECIDED TO HAVE SEX. NOW WHAT?

HOW TO MAKE THE FIRST TIME PERFECT.

HOW GOOD ARE YOU IN BED?

IDOLS SPEAK: 'MY WORST SEXUAL EXPERIENCE'

TEN TIPS TO MAKE HIM COME BACK FOR MORE

And while he could guess that most of these articles attempted to delve into what they probably called the 'male psyche', which he didn't need explained, and that the advice given was probably flat and applicable to any and all situations, he couldn't help but feel slightly jealous. However cheesy and pointless it seemed, girls got _guidance_. Something to rely on when their wits failed them – which happened to him a lot more than he would have liked, whenever 'Mizutani' and 'sex' came up in the same thought.

They tended to be pretty much intertwined these days, since he'd learned that next week-end, as Mizutani's parents were leaving town and his sister was sleeping over at her boyfriend's, they were going to Have Sex. And next week-end was now.

After weeks of being all over each other whenever they could get away with it, it shouldn't have been intimidating. It was only a natural progression, one that he'd hoped they'd come to eventually. Only, whenever he'd let himself think about it, it had been just that: natural. He hadn't walked up the last few meters to the Mizutani household thinking _when I get out of here again we will have Done It_. There hadn't been a schedule.

The door opened before he'd even had time to ring, which gave him no time to seriously consider the option of turning heel and running away, but also none to calm down at all.

"Hey." Mizutani was dressed casually, barefoot, and visibly ill-at-ease.

"Hey." Izumi wasn't sure if he should be relieved that they were both nervous. He took his time taking off his shoes, a corner of his mind wondering if Shigapo would have any tips for such a situation. Maybe he could dare Tajima to ask, and make sure he'd never, ever know what the answer was.

Then he was done, and they were standing face to face with an invisible wall between them, and Izumi didn't think he'd ever felt so awkward.

"So, do you... want to take a shower?" Mizutani asked, shuffling his feet.

The answer came out before Izumi had had time to think about it. Which was his only excuse, really. "You don't waste any time, do you."

Mizutani made a choking noise and started flailing his arms in denegation. "That's- No, that's not..." Then he caught Izumi's expression and gave an embarrassed chuckle, which quickly turned into a shared case of semi hysterical laughter.

"I brought my homework," Izumi said once the worst of it had passed, taking the tense silence along with it. "We're having a study session, remember? Got to have something to show for it."

"Er," Mizutani coughed, leading the way to the living room. "Actually, my parents think I'm taking advantage of the situation to have my girlfriend over."

Izumi snorted. "Really? Mine think we're taking advantage of the situation to have a party with the girls from the volleyball club."

Mizutani grimaced. "Huh. Our moms are going to talk about this."

"So it'll add up to an orgy with the volleyball team?" He managed to keep his voice perfectly flat through the question, but one look at his boyfriend's expression made him grin and lean in to steal a kiss. Mizutani met him halfway, and it took Izumi all of six seconds to forget about the English homework he had honestly been planning on doing. Hand-holding was all well and good, but there was no amount of awkward tension that couldn't be dispelled like this, by kissing and touching and pushing against each other, any discomfort overwhelmed by the desire for contact. What loomed ahead was new and exciting and terrifying, but this, they knew in and out. Pulling away from a kiss only to be caught again a moment later, the tactile contrast of fabric and skin, and if anyone tried to tell him that the way Mizutani moaned when Izumi gripped the back of his thigh wasn't already sex...

"Did you say something about a shower?" he asked, breathless, barely fast enough to finish before Mizutani kissed him again, chuckling.

"What about the homework?"

Oh, well, if he was going to play hard to get... "You know, if you really want to do the homew-"

"Clean towels are on the shelves in the bathroom."

* * *

In hindsight, it might have been better to let things progress by themselves, shower be damned. Sure, it felt somewhat dirty to be doing this without cleaning up properly first, but they'd never bothered about it before – surprise and urgency, places where they could get caught at any moment - and neither of them had come out worse for it.

He'd already taken a shower before leaving, anyway.

But at least it took care of most of the stripping, and left Izumi alone in Mizutani's bedroom after he was done, for just long enough to notice the half-open drawer of the bedside table.

It was full.

Impressively full, in fact.

"Ah..." he heard behind him, but didn't bother to turn around. The contents of that drawer were a lot more interesting.

"Is the rest of the team coming over later?" he asked blandly.

Mizutani strode from the door to get between him and the drawer. "That's not funny!" he protested, slightly defensive. "I just wanted to be... prepared, you know, and last week everyone suddenly started giving me some. My mom, my dad, my sister, even her boyfriend."

Ah. So Mizutani's family really was expecting him to Become a Man in those few days. Probably with a gentle girl who would follow his fumbling lead and cook him dinner afterwards, wearing the T-shirt she'd have shyly tugged off him two hours earlier. The mental image was really not helping. "So, no pressure, right?"

Mizutani moaned in dismay, and gave up on hiding the drawer to push himself between Izumi and the bedside table and flop down on the bed.

Izumi took advantage of the sudden freedom to peer further inside. "I'm guessing the flavoured ones are from the boyfriend? Green tea ice-cream is a bold choice."

"He said it was a 'subtle hint'," Mizutani admitted. He was tracing the edge of the towel wrapped around Izumi's waist, fingertips deliciously cool on his lower back. "And then he grinned at me. I'm never looking my sister in the face again."

"I can see why." The height of his embarrassment had been reached two days ago, when insisting that he was going to a friend's to study had not stopped his brother from giving him The Talk over the phone. In comparison to Mizutani's plight, it didn't seem so bad anymore.

He was about to stop his inspection when he found something that was most emphatically not a square foil wrapper. "I think you got ripped off," he said, his mouth a little dry. "That tube's half-empty."

There was no answer, but the hand that had been moving up his back fell away. He turned around to find that Mizutani had thrown his arm over his face, which didn't quite hide the deep blush on his cheeks.

Izumi shut the drawer and placed a hand flat on Mizutani's stomach. "I'm done."

"About time," his boyfriend muttered sulkily. Still, he moved his arm away, allowing Izumi to lean down and kiss him.

Maybe it would be better to stick to this. If neither of them was sure enough, confident enough to follow through with the plan, what was the point? The whole thing had only come up because of Tajima proudly claiming that he'd first got laid long ago, but it wasn't like they would be able to go back to school on Monday and brag to their friends about having crossed the line.

It bothered him sometimes, the tacit need for secrecy. Tajima spent half his time hanging from Hanai's neck and Abe and Mihashi had clasped hands in the middle of Koushien Stadium, but there was something different about doing it with intent. Even though Izumi was reasonably sure that none of his teammates would think any less of them for it, it was still easier not to let them know about any of this.

He resented the world for that sometimes, when the harshness of training made him irritable and possessive. On those days he wanted nothing more than to grab Mizutani in the middle of the field and claim him in a way that would make it clear to anyone watching (especially Shinooka because Mizutani had liked her once, Abe and Hanai because they spent more time with him than Izumi did, Sakaeguchi for being too friendly, and any of the girls who liked to watch their practice, just in case) that this left fielder was not available for anything more than casual conversation. But that was never going to happen, and it left them with no more pressure than they put on themselves.

He almost considered calling it off, being the one to say _it's okay if we don't do anything new yet_, and spending the night and day in bed just touching and kissing and coming as close as possible to melding together, because anything that involved them moaning against each other's skin was good enough.

But before that, there was one thing Izumi wanted to know. He broke off the kiss and pulled away, acutely aware that the towels wrapped around their hips weren't doing much to hide the very mutual erections they were both sporting. "Are you going to tell me why that tube is half empty?"

Mizutani immediately looked away, not saying anything. Izumi saw his fingers fidgeting with the sheet for a few moments before he caught himself and wiped his hand on his towel.

"I..." Mizutani started. He shook his head, took a deep breath. "Wondered," he whispered. "How it felt."

Izumi swallowed thickly. He wasn't stupid by any definition, so how had it taken him so long to notice that this guy was a brain short-circuit waiting to happen? "So you..." He wasn't usually one to mince his words, but in this case there was nothing that didn't sound horribly crude – and just as mortifying if he was wrong.

But it looked like he wasn't, because Mizutani was looking down now, eyes hidden under strands of still-wet hair. Shy, or even ashamed - unaware of the effect he was having."Yeah."

To which there was really no way to answer except by grabbing the back of his neck to tug him back, their lips crashing together as if they hadn't been practicing kissing, hours at a time for weeks and weeks.

Scratch everything he'd been about to say about taking it slow and comfortable. There was something they had to do. Because the very thought of Mizutani touching himself like that – more than once, obviously more than once from the amount of lubricant he'd used - was... well, the thought had already featured in more than one late-night fantasy, but knowing that it was real, that it actually happened, was another story entirely.

It was never going to leave his head. _Ever_. Izumi pulled away from the kiss, forced his hand to still on Mizutani's back. "Show me?" His voice didn't come out as much more than a squeaky whisper, and he knew even as he said it that it could be interpreted in two very different ways. That could have been avoided if they'd taken the time to talk about roles, but there was only so much embarrassment Izumi was willing to put himself through.

Anyway, he wouldn't be too reluctant to defer to Mizutani's expertise on the matter, at least for the first time.

"What?!" Mizutani's head snapped up to look at him. He seemed panicked at the very prospect; but he must have caught something in Izumi's expression, in his unfocused eyes and the nervous bite on his lower lip, because he relaxed the tiniest bit. "How?" he asked, which shook Izumi's thoughts from what might otherwise have been an endless loop of _oh shit this is really happening_. And just like that, the decision was made.

"Uh. Wait, I'll just..." It took half a minute, but he maneuvered himself to sit at the head of the bed, back leaning comfortably on the cool wall. The towel around his waist untucked itself when he spread his legs, but he couldn't have cared less because Mizutani had taken the hint and laid down in the open space, his head pillowed high on Izumi's left thigh, and it didn't matter that they hadn't been able to look each other in the eye since the request had been made. Not when Mizutani was stretching into a comfortable position, one arm wrapped around Izumi's knee as the other hand reached for the tube and undid its top with surprising ease.

"Skillful," Izumi commented as he twisted strands of hair between his fingers.

He winced slightly when a set of fingernails dug into his calf. "Stop that. It's embarrassing."

"Sorry." He wasn't, not really, but now wasn't the time to see how far he needed to push before Mizutani pushed back. He never had, so far - to the point that sometimes Izumi thought it wasn't quite right, the wrong balance of give and take, but he was still hardly likely to complain. "Don't mind me."

"Can't exactly pretend you're not here," Mizutani mumbled, but Izumi was too busy staring at the way he was rubbing lubricant onto his fingertips to gather the braincells that would have been needed to answer in any way that wouldn't make him sound like a caveman.

He watched for minutes, barely blinking - forced to remind himself to swallow every now and then to avoid outright drooling. Just the sound of Mizutani's deep, controlled breathing, interceded with the occasional whimper, would have been enough to get him pathetically hard. But there was also the hand gripping under his thigh, the hair tickling his skin, the slow slither of his boyfriend's body on the sheets. All for his benefit; all for him to watch, hear, feel. His leg was cramping from the weight and the tension, but if this kept going much longer...

"Hey," he croaked, "it's no fair if you're going all the way."

Mizutani answered with a questioning moan, and twisted his head to look up at him with half-lidded eyes, brushing his cheek against the towel covering Izumi's erection as he did.

It was too much; it was enough. Izumi came with a strangled cry, his fist clenched in Mizutani's hair. The cramp that had been building up seized his leg halfway through, but he hardly felt it through the waves of his orgasm, until he collapsed back against the wall, out of breath.

"Huh," Mizutani said, kneeling between his still spread legs, looking at him from underneath. And grinning.

Izumi closed his eyes and stretched his leg, working the cramp away. "What's so funny?" he demanded a minute later, and tried to pull Mizutani into the kind of kiss that would make him forget to answer.

He got nothing but a peck on the lips before Mizutani's forehead fell on his shoulder. "Because! Because you... you've got all this experience, and you're always..." A pause as laughter shook through his body. "You're always so in control of everything, and..."

Izumi grimaced and patted Mizutani's naked -strong, soft- back a few times. "Obviously not always," he said dryly, which sent Mizutani into further fits of laughter. "You're not helping at all, you know."

"But it's funny!" Mizutani protested, and his hair tickled and his breath gave him goosebumps and he never knew when to stop poking fun at someone and a thought Izumi had never meant to allow himself washed over him, leaving him short of breath and more than a little shaken.

"Well then." He wrapped his legs around Mizutani's knees, put a hand on his shoulder and pushed, taking him by surprise to throw him on the bed. The 'oof' of surprise was the last thing that escaped his boyfriend's lips before he was pinned to the mattress and kissed hard, but he caught on quickly enough. He was still hard despite the interruption, so hard and grinding against Izumi's thigh, kissing back wet and messy and there were no words for how badly Izumi wanted him; every bit of him. "I'll just have to make sure you don't get bored, then." And wow, was that a trite thing to say. But it seemed to work as well as anything, making Mizutani buck under him and pull him even closer.

Sometimes 'refractory period' was nothing but words.

"Do you have any preference for flavors?" he asked against warm skin, enjoying the shiver that it generated.

"Is --ah-- is it going to matter?"

"Not for what I'm thinking about, but I wouldn't want to ignore your wishes," Izumi offered gallantly, and pushed himself up to re-open the drawer rather than look at the pout that was sure to have blossomed. There really was an ocean of choice in there.

"Green tea ice-cream."

"So you do like it," Izumi teased, his fingers only shaking slightly as he ripped the packaging open.

"No! But I'm not going to use it for... what he said, so."

Izumi nodded distractedly. True to expectation, the condom was matcha green, which was not all that appealing. He put it on anyway, fumbling a little, painfully aware that he was being watched, and if he felt utterly ridiculous wearing nothing but a green bit of latex, all he had to do was reach out a hand and roll back into the bed and things were okay again and only mildly terrifying and he was still hard, so that was good, right? Right?

He asked, anyway. "Are you sure you're...?" _Okay? Willing? Ready?_

"I'm sure." Breathed out shakily against his skin. "It's just, how..."

"I don't know." How and when and which way, too many things to think about. If you judged by porn, sex was supposed to be simple, little more than a matter of thrusting and grunting. Thoughtless. How were you supposed to keep focused in these situations long enough to know what would work?

So Mizutani's expression turned to one of concentration for a moment, and then he rolled over, legs spread, and if Izumi had been concerned that the condom might fall off before he ever got to do anything with it, just the sight was enough to make that worry go away.

"Yeah, okay, right-" he said, then made himself shut up to concentrate on trailing his fingers up and down Mizutani's back, on touching and kissing and getting closer, closer until it was almost not unnatural when he knelt between the spread legs, almost easy to angle himself right enough and push in.

Under him, around him, Mizutani froze, and he almost panicked. "Keep going," he heard, and so he did, and a few seconds later it was easier, not as painfully tight, and he thought he could feel Mizutani unwind a little. It was enough to find his footing, so to speak; and little by little, slow thrust after careful pull, whispered reassurance after silent query, they fell into a rhythm. And it was good, and it worked, so well their breathing fell into pace as well, and now Izumi regretted that they couldn't look at each other properly, even though he could see the side of his face, closed eyes and parted lips, and when Izumi's knees slipped further apart on the sheet he saw the tension and heard the moan and felt the contraction of the muscles around him and the combination made him come, hard and irresistible.

He didn't take the time to bask, all too conscious that it had been too fast, too early, and pulled out without a word. Tugged at Mizutani's shoulder until he rolled on his back, still breathing heavily, still hard, eyes still glazed and Izumi dove on him.

He didn't realize how stupid that move was until the head hit the back of his throat, a mistake he hadn't made since Akazawa-senpai, and he had to pull back, suddenly about to throw up from more than just the gag reflex.

He sat up, head between his hands, breathing deeply, a part of him counting the seconds. He was at about fifteen when a hand touched his back, and what should have been a comfort made him bolt, rush out for the safety of the bathroom. Which wasn't really all that safe, not with the mirror staring back at him after he's splashed cold water over his face.

His pupils were so dilated as to make his eyes look almost black, the red on his face made the freckles even more obvious, and his hair was sticking up every which way, which objectively wasn't unattractive, but wasn't dignified either. Certainly not what he needed to get out and face the world, or that small part of the world that would be waiting for him in the bedroom, probably fidgeting like he did when he thought someone was mad at him and he didn't know why.

Shit.

Okay, so that wasn't how he'd planned to go about the whole thing. Even in the worst scenarios, that wasn't how he'd expected things to turn out.

Now what? The longer he spent in here, the more difficult it was going to get. So he needed to get out. His clothes were still in the bathroom, though, so the option to run away was a very tempting one. He examined it for a minute, put his pants back on, took a deep breath, and opened the door.

Mizutani was still sitting on the bed, but he'd wrapped the sheet protectively around himself. "Are you okay?"

"Apart from never wanting to show my face again, fine," he answered in as toneless a voice as he could manage. To his dismay, Mizutani chuckled. Then again, it really was kind of fun. Or it would be in fifteen years or so. "You?" In the meantime, he'd never get tired of how easily his boyfriend could be made to blush and look away.

"Stings a little," he admitted. "Nothing too bad. It... was good."

Izumi'd heard him praise cheap proteins and sound more convincing. "Right." He climbed on the bed behind Mizutani, set his chin on his shoulder, and made a show of pushing the sheet away before letting his hand rest high on his thigh. He felt a shiver go through. "So, do you want me to try to do something about this, or should I keep away and wallow in my shame?"

The sound that ensued shouldn't have been able to come from a human throat. "Please?"

Izumi chose to take that as an invitation and pressed closer, chest against his back and hand reaching around, slow and deliberate - not going to try and rush this again.

"Left hand?" Mizutani gasped as Izumi trailed his fingertips lightly up and down his cock.

"Switch hitting, remember." He'd never thought a technical baseball term could be breathed out to such effect, except maybe if the listener was Tajima. "I'm fairly ambidextrous."

"Yeah." It came out as a moan, as Mizutani's head came to rest on Izumi's shoulder, his neck stretched out and exposed. "I wondered about that."

Izumi's breath hitched, and there was hardly any skill to the way he grabbed Mizutani's cock. "The same way you wondered about how it felt to..."

"Yes." It was little more than a hiss, and there was no way to tell if it had been an answer to the words or the action. Not that it mattered, because Izumi's attention was already divided between the pressure to apply with his fingers and resisting the temptation to bite down on pale skin, leave the kind of mark that would make Tajima utter lewd comments for the entire week.

Resisting proved too hard when a hand gripped his thigh, but he managed to do nothing more lasting than kiss all over Mizutani's neck and shoulders and the side of his face and it was almost scary how he couldn't stop smiling, a little harder every time a pleading moan escaped that throat - _more, more, harder, keep going keep going please don't stop_ and he answered in kind, _it's okay, I'm here, I've got you_ until the grip on his leg tightened to the point of pain.

And then it was over and they were tumbling back side by side on the bed, Mizutani's blissed smile enough to temporarily soothe his wounded ego, and he thought they might fall asleep like that when the silence was interrupted by a loud gurgle.

"That was you," he said. A strand of Mizutani's hair tickled his shoulder when he threw his head back, laughing out loud.

"Hmmm. Hungry." Izumi was going to have to get better at this, if only to get to hear more of this mellow, relaxed voice.

"I figured. Got anything to eat that won't involve too much standing?" Quickies behind the dugout had a certain appeal, but the chance to stick around afterwards for some quiet time was too rare to miss.

Mizutani wriggled deliciously against him. "My mother got some sashimi."

"That's nice of her, but sashimi for one won't get us very far. I'm sort of famished too, what with all that exercise."

Mizutani made an embarrassed noise, unwrapped himself from around Izumi's neck and scooted away. "For two. Girlfriend, remember?" He was fidgeting now, and there was an answer to a question Izumi had been pondering: even after sleeping with him, the squirming didn't lose any of its appeal.

In fact, in conjunction with the memory of him fingering himself, it was even worse. Or better, maybe.

"By the way," he asked later, dipping a slice of eel in the plastic sauce container, "what is your mother going to tell mine about this imaginary girlfriend of yours?"

Mizutani's fish slipped from his chopsticks.

"I'll get asked about it, you know," Izumi pressed on, merciless.

"Keeps me out later after practice, distracts me when I should be studying," Mizutani mumbled, making a show of fishing the slice of salmon back from its ocean of soy sauce. Then he looked up, and this expression right there, the half-embarrassed half-determined look on his face, Izumi never wanted to get tired of it.

"Has fantastic blue eyes in the right light."

Then again, if his brain kept getting hijacked like that, he wouldn't get a chance to.


	2. The DVD Commentary

**[I have a specific pattern for naming fics in the Brand New Endings universe. For the longerst time, this one was named WT_105_Wonder. To clarify: WT=Working Title (gets removed once the fic is finished and posted), 1: first period (there are four: high school, graduation to Mihashi coming back to Abe, then up to Izumi and Mizutani finally having a conversation, then everything that comes after) 05 was the order of the fic within that period. As for the title itself, I somehow never got around to changing it despite how utterly irrelevant it is. That said, it took over a year for this fic to get written, so by the time I was ready to post it I was READY TO POST IT. In such a case, titles are usually the first thing to suffer.]**  


* * *

  
Izumi Kousuke had never been jealous of girls.

Growing up, he'd felt the occasional twinge of envy: his brother had been scolded into a personal policy of never picking on girls, and Kousuke had sometimes felt that wearing a dress on occasion would be a small price to pay to be left alone.

After discovering that he preferred to look at his teammates in the locker room than at the short hem of his classmates' uniform skirts, there had been a few weeks of unease; but, he'd decided, there was no way he was swapping his body for a girl's even if it made things easier in that regard. **[I always have trouble judging the balance between mature and collected and fun-loving, for him. My characterization leans heavily on the former, which makes for easy self analysis but also sometimes makes me feel like I don't really do him justice.]**

Now, going on eighteen and content, if not happy, with every aspect of his life, he was catching up on a lifetime of longing.

The thing was, girls had _magazines_. He'd always seen them around, in the streets, the train, the convenience store. But he'd never really paid attention until last week, when, back from training camp, all the front page articles had jumped out at him.

_ARE YOU READY?_

YOU'VE DECIDED TO HAVE SEX. NOW WHAT?

HOW TO MAKE THE FIRST TIME PERFECT.

HOW GOOD ARE YOU IN BED?

IDOLS SPEAK: 'MY WORST SEXUAL EXPERIENCE'

TEN TIPS TO MAKE HIM COME BACK FOR MORE **[Article titles more or less lifter from the magazine covers I see every day on my way to work. Also my vague memories from the time I was reading them. I confess, not much research went into this list.]**

And while he could guess that most of these articles attempted to delve into what they probably called the 'male psyche', which he didn't need explained, and that the advice given was probably flat and applicable to any and all situations, he couldn't help but feel slightly jealous. However cheesy and pointless it seemed, girls got _guidance_. Something to rely on when their wits failed them – which happened to him a lot more than he would have liked, whenever 'Mizutani' and 'sex' came up in the same thought. **[For some reason, I always tend to write Izumi as having a little experience on the side, whereas Mizutani tends to be completely 'pure' (in terms of having actually done things, obviously). This, right here, might be why: I suspect Izumi might lose his brain the first time with somebody he likes, and if he has some experience, he can at least rely on that a little.]**

They tended to be pretty much intertwined these days, since he'd learned that next week-end, as Mizutani's parents were leaving town and his sister was sleeping over at her boyfriend's, they were going to Have Sex. And next week-end was now. **[So of course there's ~~an app~~ a fic for that, which is pretty much the team's last moment of peace before everything starts breaking down. One day, I'll finish it. Maybe.]**

After weeks of being all over each other whenever they could get away with it, it shouldn't have been intimidating. It was only a natural progression, one that he'd hoped they'd come to eventually. Only, whenever he'd let himself think about it, it had been just that: natural. He hadn't walked up the last few meters to the Mizutani household thinking _when I get out of here again we will have Done It_. There hadn't been a schedule. **[It's all Mizutani's fault for suggesting it in the first place. Really! A quickie in the dugout would have been so much easier for everyone involved.]**

The door opened before he'd even had time to ring, which gave him no time to seriously consider the option of turning heel and running away, but also none to calm down at all.

"Hey." Mizutani was dressed casually, barefoot, and visibly ill-at-ease.

"Hey." Izumi wasn't sure if he should be relieved that they were both nervous. He took his time taking off his shoes, a corner of his mind wondering if Shigapo would have any tips for such a situation. Maybe he could dare Tajima to ask, and make sure he'd never, ever know what the answer was.

Then he was done, and they were standing face to face with an invisible wall between them, and Izumi didn't think he'd ever felt so awkward.

"So, do you... want to take a shower?" Mizutani asked, shuffling his feet. **[I started writing this shortly after an article on the Japanese and sex started circulating among my friends. The need for a shower seemed so prominent that I couldn't not include it; it also makes for perfect added awkwardness.]**

The answer came out before Izumi had had time to think about it. Which was his only excuse, really. "You don't waste any time, do you."

Mizutani made a choking noise and started flailing his arms in denegation. "That's- No, that's not..." Then he caught Izumi's expression and gave an embarrassed chuckle, which quickly turned into a shared case of semi hysterical laughter.

"I brought my homework," Izumi said once the worst of it had passed, taking the tense silence along with it. "We're having a study session, remember? Got to have something to show for it."

"Er," Mizutani coughed, leading the way to the living room. "Actually, my parents think I'm taking advantage of the situation to have my girlfriend over." **[Because what are parents of a teenage boy supposed to think when they leave him home alone for an entire week-end?]**

Izumi snorted. "Really? Mine think we're taking advantage of the situation to have a party with the girls from the volleyball club."

Mizutani grimaced. "Huh. Our moms are going to talk about this." **[This is something I really want to expand on someday. All the moms are so prone to gossiping; surely, if two of the boys started acting weird, they'd notice? And possibly mount a spying operation. Shenanigans would ensue.]**

"So it'll add up to an orgy with the volleyball team?" He managed to keep his voice perfectly flat through the question, but one look at his boyfriend's expression made him grin and lean in to steal a kiss. Mizutani met him halfway, and it took Izumi all of six seconds to forget about the English homework he had honestly been planning on doing. Hand-holding was all well and good, but there was no amount of awkward tension that couldn't be dispelled like this, by kissing and touching and pushing against each other, any discomfort overwhelmed by the desire for contact. What loomed ahead was new and exciting and terrifying, but this, they knew in and out. Pulling away from a kiss only to be caught again a moment later, the tactile contrast of fabric and skin, and if anyone tried to tell him that the way Mizutani moaned when Izumi gripped the back of his thigh wasn't already sex...

"Did you say something about a shower?" he asked, breathless, barely fast enough to finish before Mizutani kissed him again, chuckling.

"What about the homework?"

Oh, well, if he was going to play hard to get... "You know, if you really want to do the homew-"

"Clean towels are on the shelves in the bathroom." **[They _could_ have taken that shower together, but it wouldn't have been proper, now would it?]**

* * *

In hindsight, it might have been better to let things progress by themselves, shower be damned. Sure, it felt somewhat dirty to be doing this without cleaning up properly first, but they'd never bothered about it before – surprise and urgency, places where they could get caught at any moment - and neither of them had come out worse for it.

He'd already taken a shower before leaving, anyway. **[Among the top five activities of the soon-to-get-laid teenager: second-guessing.]**

But at least it took care of most of the stripping, and left Izumi alone in Mizutani's bedroom after he was done, for just long enough to notice the half-open drawer of the bedside table.

It was full.

Impressively full, in fact. **[Also in the top five: getting overwhelmed by the smallest things. Such as a drawer full of condoms.]**

"Ah..." he heard behind him, but didn't bother to turn around. The contents of that drawer were a lot more interesting.

"Is the rest of the team coming over later?" he asked blandly.

Mizutani strode from the door to get between him and the drawer. "That's not funny!" he protested, slightly defensive. "I just wanted to be... prepared, you know, and last week everyone suddenly started giving me some. My mom, my dad, my sister, even her boyfriend." **[In the RP we had going on Plurk while I was writing this, Mizutani's sister was going out with Izumi's brother (this provided great potential for situational comedy, that sadly never happened). It's not the case here, but the temptation was great to at least suggest it, just for those who would have caught the reference. :)]**

Ah. So Mizutani's family really was expecting him to Become a Man in those few days. Probably with a gentle girl who would follow his fumbling lead and cook him dinner afterwards, wearing the T-shirt she'd have shyly tugged off him two hours earlier. The mental image was really not helping. **[To much imagination is not a good thing. Also maybe a small amount of guilt there, for dragging Mizutani into the Gay Side of the Force.]** "So, no pressure, right?"

Mizutani moaned in dismay, and gave up on hiding the drawer to push himself between Izumi and the bedside table and flop down on the bed.

Izumi took advantage of the sudden freedom to peer further inside. "I'm guessing the flavoured ones are from the boyfriend? Green tea ice-cream is a bold choice."

"He said it was a 'subtle hint'," Mizutani admitted. He was tracing the edge of the towel wrapped around Izumi's waist, fingertips deliciously cool on his lower back. "And then he grinned at me. I'm never looking my sister in the face again." **[I strongly suspect that the sister put her boyfriend up to it in order to horrify Fumiki so much that he'd end up unable to perform. Someone has a brother complex~ (though of course that's my imagination; I don't think she's actually appeared in canon?)]**

"I can see why." The height of his embarrassment had been reached two days ago, when insisting that he was going to a friend's to study had not stopped his brother from giving him The Talk over the phone. In comparison to Mizutani's plight, it didn't seem so bad anymore. **[Aaaahhh, Takami-san. First name completely made up, and I've taken to using it so much that Izumi's bro becomes 'Takami' in every universe I write. The day his real name comes out is going to be a shock. Anyway, despite being a bully of an older brother, this Takami is still a good guy. Really! Kind of like Kousuke, come to think of it.]**

He was about to stop his inspection when he found something that was most emphatically not a square foil wrapper. "I think you got ripped off," he said, his mouth a little dry. "That tube's half-empty."

There was no answer, but the hand that had been moving up his back fell away. He turned around to find that Mizutani had thrown his arm over his face, which didn't quite hide the deep blush on his cheeks. **[You'd think he'd hide it better, if he didn't want his boyfriend to find out. OR HIS MOM. Maybe it was all a cunning plan?]**

Izumi shut the drawer and placed a hand flat on Mizutani's stomach. "I'm done."

"About time," his boyfriend muttered sulkily. Still, he moved his arm away, allowing Izumi to lean down and kiss him.

Maybe it would be better to stick to this. If neither of them was sure enough, confident enough to follow through with the plan, what was the point? The whole thing had only come up because of Tajima proudly claiming that he'd first got laid long ago **[Incidentally, that was with Ochi. What Tajima wants, Tajima gets. (This may or may not include Hanai.)]**, but it wasn't like they would be able to go back to school on Monday and brag to their friends about having crossed the line.

It bothered him sometimes, the tacit need for secrecy. **[Slight detour into what's going on with the other pairs, even though it isn't much. But it helps me keep track of this sometimes wobbly timeline.]** Tajima spent half his time hanging from Hanai's neck and Abe and Mihashi had clasped hands in the middle of Koushien Stadium **[They made it! In second year. Didn't win, but there's always this summer, right? RIGHT?]**, but there was something different about doing it with intent. **[Small oversight on Izumi's part, there: Tajima does _everything_ with intent.]** Even though Izumi was reasonably sure that none of his teammates would think any less of them for it, it was still easier not to let them know about any of this.

He resented the world for that sometimes, when the harshness of training made him irritable and possessive. On those days he wanted nothing more than to grab Mizutani in the middle of the field and claim him in a way that would make it clear to anyone watching (especially Shinooka because Mizutani had liked her once, Abe and Hanai because they spent more time with him than Izumi did, Sakaeguchi for being too friendly, and any of the girls who liked to watch their practice, just in case) that this left fielder was not available for anything more than casual conversation. But that was never going to happen, and it left them with no more pressure than they put on themselves.

He almost considered calling it off, being the one to say _it's okay if we don't do anything new yet_, and spending the night and day in bed just touching and kissing and coming as close as possible to melding together, because anything that involved them moaning against each other's skin was good enough.

But before that, there was one thing Izumi wanted to know. He broke off the kiss and pulled away, acutely aware that the towels wrapped around their hips weren't doing much to hide the very mutual erections they were both sporting. "Are you going to tell me why that tube is half empty?" **[So it's not wanting information so much as teasing. But hey, he does that.]**

Mizutani immediately looked away, not saying anything. Izumi saw his fingers fidgeting with the sheet for a few moments before he caught himself and wiped his hand on his towel.

"I..." Mizutani started. He shook his head, took a deep breath. "Wondered," **[One might think that this is where the title comes from, but it's not. I have no idea where it did come from, but it wasn't this thread.]** he whispered. "How it felt."

Izumi swallowed thickly. He wasn't stupid by any definition, so how had it taken him so long to notice that this guy was a brain short-circuit waiting to happen? "So you..." He wasn't usually one to mince his words, but in this case there was nothing that didn't sound horribly crude – and just as mortifying if he was wrong.

But it looked like he wasn't, because Mizutani was looking down now, eyes hidden under strands of still-wet hair. Shy, or even ashamed - unaware of the effect he was having. **[A recurring theme in their relationship: Mizutani has no idea of his power, and Izumi chooses not to let him know. Which would indicate either that Izumi doesn't trust him enough to give him even more power, or that he doesn't want to inflict that burden on him, by forcing him to actually consider his behavior before doing stupid things. It's a little bit of both, really, and a lot of Izumi being stupid.]** "Yeah."

To which there was really no way to answer except by grabbing the back of his neck to tug him back, their lips crashing together as if they hadn't been practicing kissing, hours at a time for weeks and weeks. **[And if you're wondering when they have time for that, well... that's the story of how Momokan got fired and replaced by a dude who doesn't make them train from 4.30am to 9pm.]**

Scratch everything he'd been about to say about taking it slow and comfortable. There was something they had to do. Because the very thought of Mizutani touching himself like that – more than once, obviously more than once from the amount of lubricant he'd used - was... well, the thought had already featured in more than one late-night fantasy **[no more swimsuits in _this_ nightscape, that's for sure]**, but knowing that it was real, that it actually happened, was another story entirely.

It was never going to leave his head. _Ever_. Izumi pulled away from the kiss, forced his hand to still on Mizutani's back. "Show me?" His voice didn't come out as much more than a squeaky whisper, and he knew even as he said it that it could be interpreted in two very different ways. That could have been avoided if they'd taken the time to talk about roles, but there was only so much embarrassment Izumi was willing to put himself through.

Anyway, he wouldn't be too reluctant to defer to Mizutani's expertise on the matter, at least for the first time. **[Riiiight. Incidentally, Izumi doesn't bottom at all until after he gets dumped, and then once more with Abe. It'll be a good long while before Mizutani gets that chance again.]**

"What?!" Mizutani's head snapped up to look at him. He seemed panicked at the very prospect; but he must have caught something in Izumi's expression, in his unfocused eyes and the nervous bite on his lower lip, because he relaxed the tiniest bit. "How?" he asked, which shook Izumi's thoughts from what might otherwise have been an endless loop of _oh shit this is really happening_. And just like that, the decision was made.

"Uh. Wait, I'll just..." It took half a minute, but he maneuvered himself to sit at the head of the bed, back leaning comfortably on the cool wall. The towel around his waist untucked itself when he spread his legs, but he couldn't have cared less because Mizutani had taken the hint and laid down in the open space, his head pillowed high on Izumi's left thigh, and it didn't matter that they hadn't been able to look each other in the eye since the request had been made. Not when Mizutani was stretching into a comfortable position, one arm wrapped around Izumi's knee as the other hand reached for the tube and undid its top with surprising ease. **[This was one of those positions that made me wish I was an artist: it was so clear and obvious and perfect in my head, and then I had to write it down and every word was a struggle.]**

"Skillful," Izumi commented as he twisted strands of hair between his fingers. **[He just can't help himself. :| There are pigtails. A boy must pull.]**

He winced slightly when a set of fingernails dug into his calf. "Stop that. It's embarrassing."

"Sorry." He wasn't, not really, but now wasn't the time to see how far he needed to push before Mizutani pushed back. He never had, so far - to the point that sometimes Izumi thought it wasn't quite right, the wrong balance of give and take, but he was still hardly likely to complain. "Don't mind me." **[First sign of something not being perfectly right in their universe....]**

"Can't exactly pretend you're not here," Mizutani mumbled, but Izumi was too busy staring at the way he was rubbing lubricant onto his fingertips to gather the braincells that would have been needed to answer in any way that wouldn't make him sound like a caveman.

He watched for minutes, barely blinking - forced to remind himself to swallow every now and then to avoid outright drooling. Just the sound of Mizutani's deep, controlled breathing, interceded with the occasional whimper, would have been enough to get him pathetically hard. But there was also the hand gripping under his thigh, the hair tickling his skin, the slow slither of his boyfriend's body on the sheets. All for his benefit; all for him to watch, hear, feel. His leg was cramping from the weight and the tension, but if this kept going much longer...

"Hey," he croaked, "it's no fair if you're going all the way."

Mizutani answered with a questioning moan, and twisted his head to look up at him with half-lidded eyes, brushing his cheek against the towel covering Izumi's erection as he did.

It was too much; it was enough. **[I hate this phrase, but (or because) it seems I keep inadvertently using it. To-do: find better ways to write hair-trigger orgasms.]** Izumi came with a strangled cry, his fist clenched in Mizutani's hair. The cramp that had been building up seized his leg halfway through, but he hardly felt it through the waves of his orgasm, until he collapsed back against the wall, out of breath.

"Huh," Mizutani said, kneeling between his still spread legs, looking at him from underneath. And grinning.

Izumi closed his eyes and stretched his leg, working the cramp away. "What's so funny?" he demanded a minute later, and tried to pull Mizutani into the kind of kiss that would make him forget to answer.

He got nothing but a peck on the lips before Mizutani's forehead fell on his shoulder. "Because! Because you... you've got all this experience, and you're always..." **["All this experience" = Akazawa-senpai, whose gaydar was precise enough to ping on Izumi in his first year of high school (or possibly even in middle school, since they attended the same one for a year) and made sure to let him know. Consequently, Izumi has a fair amount of experience on the domains of quick hand/blowjobs in the bathroom between classes. _Feelings_, he wasn't prepared for. Akazawa is meant to reappear briefly after Abe and Mihashi start working together again.]** A pause as laughter shook through his body. "You're always so in control of everything, and..."

Izumi grimaced and patted Mizutani's naked -strong, soft- back a few times. "Obviously not always," he said dryly, which sent Mizutani into further fits of laughter. "You're not helping at all, you know."

"But it's funny!" Mizutani protested, and his hair tickled and his breath gave him goosebumps and he never knew when to stop poking fun at someone and a thought Izumi had never meant to allow himself washed over him, leaving him short of breath and more than a little shaken. **[I remember reading a long time ago that men tended to say "I love you" a lot more during (or right before or after) sex, probably for endorphins reasons. In this case, he held it back, but you've got to wonder: considering that most of their issues later on stem from [basic miscommunication](http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/CannotSpitItOut), how much could have been spared if he'd just said it right then? ... Heh, I said 'wonder'. Maybe _that_ is where the title comes from (doubt it, though).]**

"Well then." He wrapped his legs around Mizutani's knees, put a hand on his shoulder and pushed, taking him by surprise to throw him on the bed. The 'oof' of surprise was the last thing that escaped his boyfriend's lips before he was pinned to the mattress and kissed hard, but he caught on quickly enough. He was still hard despite the interruption, so hard and grinding against Izumi's thigh, kissing back wet and messy and there were no words for how badly Izumi wanted him; every bit of him. "I'll just have to make sure you don't get bored, then." And wow, was that a trite thing to say. But it seemed to work as well as anything, making Mizutani buck under him and pull him even closer.

Sometimes 'refractory period' was nothing but words. **[And sometimes a writer goes too far in trying to explain that something is physically possible REALLY IT IS! To do: learn to work suspension of disbelief better than this.]**

"Do you have any preference for flavors?" he asked against warm skin, enjoying the shiver that it generated.

"Is --ah-- is it going to matter?"

"Not for what I'm thinking about, but I wouldn't want to ignore your wishes," Izumi offered gallantly **[If he says so himself. Mizutani might have used a different word.]**, and pushed himself up to re-open the drawer rather than look at the pout that was sure to have blossomed. There really was an ocean of choice in there.

"Green tea ice-cream."

"So you do like it," Izumi teased, his fingers only shaking slightly as he ripped the packaging open.

"No! But I'm not going to use it for... what he said, so."

Izumi nodded distractedly. True to expectation, the condom was matcha green, which was not all that appealing. He put it on anyway, fumbling a little, painfully aware that he was being watched, and if he felt utterly ridiculous wearing nothing but a green bit of latex **[This is perhaps my favorite out of all the really fucking awkward moments. And by favorite I mean most horrible. No man looks dignified with a colored condom. (Feel free to not send me pictures proving otherwise.)]**, all he had to do was reach out a hand and roll back into the bed and things were okay again and only mildly terrifying and he was still hard, so that was good, right? Right?

He asked, anyway. "Are you sure you're...?" _Okay? Willing? Ready?_

"I'm sure." Breathed out shakily against his skin. "It's just, how..."

"I don't know." How and when and which way, too many things to think about. If you judged by porn, sex was supposed to be simple, little more than a matter of thrusting and grunting. Thoughtless. How were you supposed to keep focused in these situations long enough to know what would work? **[I do tend to point out the differences between porn and real sex, especially when writing a teenage boy's first time. (See also the NSFW [Make Love Not Porn](http://makelovenotporn.com/) website.) It's an important point for me, I guess?]**

So Mizutani's expression turned to one of concentration for a moment, and then he rolled over, legs spread, and if Izumi had been concerned that the condom might fall off before he ever got to do anything with it, just the sight was enough to make that worry go away.

"Yeah, okay, right-" he said, then made himself shut up to concentrate on trailing his fingers up and down Mizutani's back, on touching and kissing and getting closer, closer until it was almost not unnatural when he knelt between the spread legs, almost easy to angle himself right enough and push in.

Under him, around him, Mizutani froze, and he almost panicked. "Keep going," he heard, and so he did, and a few seconds later it was easier, not as painfully tight, and he thought he could feel Mizutani unwind a little. It was enough to find his footing, so to speak; and little by little, slow thrust after careful pull, whispered reassurance after silent query, they fell into a rhythm. And it was good, and it worked, so well their breathing fell into pace as well, and now Izumi regretted that they couldn't look at each other properly, even though he could see the side of his face, closed eyes and parted lips, and when Izumi's knees slipped further apart on the sheet he saw the tension and heard the moan and felt the contraction of the muscles around him and the combination made him come, hard and irresistible. **[Interesting (not) fact: pretty much every time I write sex, no matter how long the foreplay lasts, the actual penetration is done with in the space of one paragraph. I think that's because if it's good enough (and it should be), mental ramblings would kill the mood and bury it.]**

He didn't take the time to bask, all too conscious that it had been too fast, too early, and pulled out without a word. Tugged at Mizutani's shoulder until he rolled on his back, still breathing heavily, still hard, eyes still glazed and Izumi dove on him.

He didn't realize how stupid that move was until the head hit the back of his throat, a mistake he hadn't made since Akazawa-senpai, and he had to pull back, suddenly about to throw up from more than just the gag reflex. **[Akazawa-senpai is Izumi's reference for all things concerning relationships and sex. He should really find himself some other ones. Though considering the people who surround him, that wouldn't be easy.]**

He sat up, head between his hands, breathing deeply, a part of him counting the seconds. He was at about fifteen when a hand touched his back, and what should have been a comfort made him bolt, rush out for the safety of the bathroom. Which wasn't really all that safe, not with the mirror staring back at him after he's splashed cold water over his face.

His pupils were so dilated as to make his eyes look almost black, the red on his face made the freckles even more obvious, and his hair was sticking up every which way, which objectively **[It would take a superhero to be objective in this situation BUT IZUMI IS AWESOME OK.]** wasn't unattractive, but wasn't dignified either. Certainly not what he needed to get out and face the world, or that small part of the world that would be waiting for him in the bedroom, probably fidgeting like he did when he thought someone was mad at him and he didn't know why.

Shit.

Okay, so that wasn't how he'd planned to go about the whole thing. Even in the worst scenarios, that wasn't how he'd expected things to turn out. **[Signs you're not ready to have sex: calling it "that thing" is a good one.]**

Now what? The longer he spent in here, the more difficult it was going to get. So he needed to get out. His clothes were still in the bathroom, though, so the option to run away was a very tempting one. He examined it for a minute, put his pants back on, took a deep breath, and opened the door.

Mizutani was still sitting on the bed, but he'd wrapped the sheet protectively around himself. "Are you okay?"

"Apart from never wanting to show my face again, fine," he answered in as toneless a voice as he could manage. To his dismay, Mizutani chuckled. Then again, it really was kind of fun. Or it would be in fifteen years or so. "You?" In the meantime, he'd never get tired of how easily his boyfriend could be made to blush and look away.

"Stings a little," he admitted. "Nothing too bad. It... was good."

Izumi'd heard him praise cheap proteins and sound more convincing. "Right." He climbed on the bed behind Mizutani, set his chin on his shoulder, and made a show of pushing the sheet away before letting his hand rest high on his thigh. He felt a shiver go through. "So, do you want me to try to do something about this, or should I keep away and wallow in my shame?"

The sound that ensued shouldn't have been able to come from a human throat. "Please?"

Izumi chose to take that as an invitation and pressed closer, chest against his back and hand reaching around, slow and deliberate - not going to try and rush this again.

"Left hand?" Mizutani gasped as Izumi trailed his fingertips lightly up and down his cock.

"Switch hitting, remember." He'd never thought a technical baseball term could be breathed out to such effect, except maybe if the listener was Tajima. **[I believe it's impossible for these boys (and I mean the team as a whole) to have sex without a stray thought about Tajima.]** "I'm fairly ambidextrous."

"Yeah." It came out as a moan, as Mizutani's head came to rest on Izumi's shoulder, his neck stretched out and exposed. "I wondered about that."

Izumi's breath hitched, and there was hardly any skill to the way he grabbed Mizutani's cock. "The same way you wondered about how it felt to..." **[That specific scene is slated in my layout, but since it's not exactly plot-driving, I'm afraid it'll never see the day.]**

"Yes." It was little more than a hiss, and there was no way to tell if it had been an answer to the words or the action. Not that it mattered, because Izumi's attention was already divided between the pressure to apply with his fingers and resisting the temptation to bite down on pale skin, leave the kind of mark that would make Tajima utter lewd comments for the entire week.

Resisting proved too hard when a hand gripped his thigh, but he managed to do nothing more lasting than kiss all over Mizutani's neck and shoulders and the side of his face and it was almost scary how he couldn't stop smiling, a little harder every time a pleading moan escaped that throat - _more, more, harder, keep going keep going please don't stop_ and he answered in kind, _it's okay, I'm here, I've got you_ until the grip on his leg tightened to the point of pain.

And then it was over and they were tumbling back side by side on the bed, Mizutani's blissed smile enough to temporarily soothe his wounded ego, and he thought they might fall asleep like that when the silence was interrupted by a loud gurgle.

"That was you," he said. **[Desperate attempt not to be at the source of EVERY embarrassing body reaction that day...]** A strand of Mizutani's hair tickled his shoulder when he threw his head back, laughing out loud.

"Hmmm. Hungry." Izumi was going to have to get better at this, if only to get to hear more of this mellow, relaxed voice.

"I figured. Got anything to eat that won't involve too much standing?" Quickies behind the dugout had a certain appeal, but the chance to stick around afterwards for some quiet time was too rare to miss.

Mizutani wriggled deliciously against him. "My mother got some sashimi."

"That's nice of her, but sashimi for one won't get us very far. I'm sort of famished too, what with all that exercise."

Mizutani made an embarrassed noise, unwrapped himself from around Izumi's neck and scooted away. "For two. Girlfriend, remember?" He was fidgeting now, and there was an answer to a question Izumi had been pondering: even after sleeping with him, the squirming didn't lose any of its appeal. **[Oh, that boy is hooked good.]**

In fact, in conjunction with the memory of him fingering himself, it was even worse. Or better, maybe.

"By the way," he asked later, dipping a slice of eel in the plastic sauce container, "what is your mother going to tell mine about this imaginary girlfriend of yours?"

Mizutani's fish slipped from his chopsticks.

"I'll get asked about it, you know," Izumi pressed on, merciless.

"Keeps me out later after practice, distracts me when I should be studying," Mizutani mumbled, making a show of fishing the slice of salmon back from its ocean of soy sauce. Then he looked up, and this expression right there, the half-embarrassed half-determined look on his face, Izumi never wanted to get tired of it.

"Has fantastic blue eyes in the right light."

Then again, if his brain kept getting hijacked like that, he wouldn't get a chance to. **['Hooked' might actually be an understatement there. &gt;D]**


End file.
